Draco, Queen of Denial
by dracoredeemed
Summary: Draco may be slim, elegant and slightly campy, but he is definitely NOT gay. Harry sets out to prove he is wrong. H/D Slash. One-Shot.


Harmony

Disclaimer: Jo and friends own the characters. I am just taking them out to play, for fun, not profit.

A/N: This fic was prompted by Aandune, who started to write it, but then lost interest. So she handed the idea over to me. So it's really a collaborative fic. Thanks Anndune, and also, as always, f rte beta work. 

**Draco, Queen of Denial**

**by dracoredeemed**

She strutted down the runway with elegant ease. Her floor length black dress was split to the hip, revealed silvery silk stockings held in place by a crimson garter belt. Her long black hair fell in thick silky waves to her waist, and her black patent stiletto heels beat a steady tattoo against the boards of the stage as she made her way down the catwalk. Her face was flawless—pale, with full red lips and long, luxurious lashes that framed eyes the colour of rare emeralds. Every man in the club was held in thrall and the emcee stood back and smiled as she strutted provocatively to the end of the runway, where she stopped, a silk covered leg peeking out through the slit of her skirt.

In her hands she carried a bouquet of red roses offset by one contrasting white one. One by one, the red roses were thrown to the crowd as she shamelessly flirted with the men who ogled her from below. When all that was left was the one white rose, she kissed it and looked out over the crowd. Smiling, she slowly descended the steps. She was headed for one person.

He was tall, blond and well built. His grey eyes were sparkling in the club's flashing lights. She approached the man who was sitting at the bar with an amused look on his face and traced the rose down his cheek. "Like to dance?"

Draco Malfoy smirked and raised an eyebrow. "How can I refuse?"

He stood up and, even though he was tall, she was slightly taller than he in her stilettos. Draping an arm around her, he led her to the dance floor, where he spun her around before pulling her abruptly toward him. "I suppose I should ask your name, if we're going to be this close."

"Harmony. You're Draco Malfoy, aren't you?"

He stopped and looked at her, brows furrowed. "And how would you know that?"

She hit his shoulder with the rose and giggled. "Silly, you're famous."

"Maybe at home, but not here."

"Why not here, Draco? Great deeds are great deeds, and they are noteworthy wherever you might be."

"Yes, but San Francisco is a world away from London."

She leaned in closer and nibbled on his earlobe, her voice barely a whisper. "Draco, you've been made. No, don't react. Act like you're clueless about what's going on around you. I have to get you out of here. There are three Death Eaters sitting at the fourth table on your right. They haven't taken their eyes off you since you walked in here."

She gently kissed a trail down his neck before pulling back slightly. Throwing her head back, she laughed throatily and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Draco smiled charmingly and spun them around so that now her back was to the men in question. He did indeed know them. Every one of them was at the Death Eater meeting into which he had smuggled Harry Potter. It was the last Death Eater meeting—the one that saw the Death of the Dark Lord.

Spinning her around again, he pulled her hips forward and leaned in to breathe against her lips, "Damn. What is the best way out of here?"

She closed the distance, her soft lips meeting his, and closed her eyes as their mouths moved together briefly, before pulling back slightly again. "We can't Apparate out, since this is a Muggle club. We'll have to walk…." She looked up just as one of the Death Eaters was approaching them, so she grabbed Draco and kissed him again. "They are on the move. Follow my lead."

Breaking their embrace, she smiled enticingly and took his hand, leading him off the dance floor in the opposite direction of the approaching men. They were soon blocked, however, by several others whom Harmony hadn't noticed.

When they stopped, another man stood from his table and nodded to Harmony as he pulled out his wand. Grasping Draco's hand, she quickly pulled him behind her and raised her wand, taking down two of the Death Eaters even as her partner hexed the others. Patrons began screaming as bodies crumpled to the floor and Harmony's assistant quickly put up wards to keep any Muggles from leaving.

Within fifteen minutes, everyone was Obliviated and Harmony was leading Draco out the back as her partner quickly dealt with the US Special Forces, which had been alerted to magical activity at the club.

Threading her arm through Draco's, she snuggled up against him and kissed his cheek. "You know, Draco, I could get used to this." He turned and pulled her into a warm embrace, pressing their lips together and lingering over the kiss until she arched seductively against him. Pulling her hips toward him, he stopped suddenly at the feel of a hard cock through the fabric between them. "Wait, who are you?" He pulled back abruptly, frowning.

"I told you… I'm Harmony." She smirked and raised her eyebrows.

The man who had assisted Harmony suddenly appeared and sauntered over towards them. Pulling out his wand, he muttered a few words and his Glamour disappeared.

"Weasley?" Draco blinked in shock.

"Yeah, Malfoy, who did you expect? At least we got you out of there unscathed."

"Yes, thank you, I'm sure." His tone was sarcastic as he turned to his companion. Suddenly a look of horror dawned on his face. It was the green eyes that caught him. "Weasley, if you are here…." His eyes narrowed. "Potter?"

She smirked again. "Got it in one… Draco." Gently brushing a finger over his cheek, she raised her eyebrows slightly. "That was some kiss, lover boy."

Weasley snorted loudly as Harry cast the spell to dispose of his own Glamour. Draco jumped back, sharply pulling his arms away as if he had been burned. "Fuck you, Potter. You could have said something."

"Can I help it if you're a raving poof?"

"I thought you were a woman, for God's sake!" Draco was getting angry now, but Harry just regarded him with amusement.

"You keep telling yourself that, pet."

Draco sputtered, speechless, his hands fisting at his sides. Before he could retort, however, Ron was in front of him. "Let it go, Malfoy. He's just yanking your chain."

"Yes, well… thanks for getting me out of there, I suppose. Now, if you'll excuse me I'll be on my way." He turned on his heel and began walking quickly down the alley.

"Not so fast, lover boy." Draco stopped and rolled his eyes as Harry came up behind him. "The threat isn't over. There are more of them out there. We've been sent to baby sit you, so you won't be going _anywhere_ without _us_." Draco turned sharply then, his disgust clearly written on his face.

"I can look after myself, thank you very much. I do not need any Aurors—especially you and Red over there—to baby sit me. Now will you do me a favour and get out of my face? I have an early appointment tomorrow." He turned again and started to walk away. Sharing a look, Harry and Ron both raised their wands, one casting a Binding Spell on the retreating man, the other a Silencing Spell on the alley.

Moving towards where Draco was now struggling against the ropes that bound him so tight that he couldn't move, Harry crossed his arms and pursed his lips. "Look, Malfoy, I don't like this any more than you do. But we were sent to protect you and protect you we shall. Now, you can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Draco struggled against the ropes again. "How bloody heroic of you, Potter. Three cheers for you," he spat venomously. Harry just raised his eyebrows and waited. After several more minutes of struggling, Draco's shoulders finally slumped and his closed his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Just get me out of this, will you?"

Harry waved his wand and the ropes disappeared.

Rubbing his wrists where the harsh twine had cut into him, Draco sighed and rolled his eyes again. "Well. What are you waiting for? Escort me back to my hotel."

"Glad to." Harry smirked then. "I'm sure you won't mind us sharing your lovely suite there. Security and all that. Can't have you exposed to further threats, now can we?"

Draco flushed in anger again and his lips thinned, but he didn't respond.

"Good. I am glad we have a cooperative target. Ron, you Apparate ahead and make sure everything is secure, and we'll catch a cab." Draco arched his eyebrows at that and Harry shrugged. "I want to make sure there are as many witnesses as possible to see you walk into the hotel."

"I know, I know… security." He huffed. "God, could this situation be any more like a bad movie?"

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry. "See you when you get there."

"Okay. We won't be too long." Harry waved his wand to end the Silencing Spell and quickly pushed Draco down the alley ahead of him. "Come on, lover boy. You can pay for the cab."

Minutes later they were taking the elegantly appointed lift to the seventh floor of Draco's very posh hotel.

"Nice place," observed Harry. "You always travel like this?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, I do. The company is very generous." Draco gave him a long-suffering look and leaned back languidly against the wall of the lift. "Unlike Ministry travel allowances, I imagine."

"We do all right." Harry shrugged. "I don't much care for pomp and circumstance, anyway."

Just then the lift came to a stop and the doors opened. Harry stood back to allow Draco to walk ahead of him. He cocked his head to one side as he watched the firm cheeks of the other man's arse undulate as he walked down the hall towards their room. Malfoy might be a ponce and a git, but he was a bloody gorgeous one. Harry felt his mouth salivate slightly at the thought of touching those firm mounds, but quickly shook himself out of it as Draco reached the door of his suite and turned to look at him, one eyebrow arched. "Were you looking at my arse, Potter?"

"Er… I might have been. It was practically in my face after all."

"Well, don't. I know you're as bent as a boomerang, but I am not."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Yeah, right. You're just slim, delicately featured and elegantly campy because it's in style. Very macho."

Draco huffed in response. "It happens to be called _metrosexual_. Liking fine things and caring about my appearance does _not_ make me gay."

"Right, Malfoy. Just like being a muscley Auror with bad hair does not make me straight." Harry smirked at Draco's look of exasperation. Turning the key in the lock, Draco opened the door with a soft click and walked in to see Ron sprawled on the sofa, a beer in one hand and a remote in the other.

"Nice to see you're making yourself at home, Weasley." He dropped the keys onto the hall table and walked towards a door on the far wall. "I am going to bed. Goodnight, gentlemen."

"Just a moment, Malfoy. How many beds do you have in that bedroom?" Harry crossed the floor quickly and peered into the room beyond. "Fuck. Trust you to get the king size bed instead of two doubles." He turned back to Ron. "Flip you for the couch. There is no way I am sleeping with the fairy princess here."

"Forget it, mate." Ron smiled smugly. "First in, best dressed. And I was here first."

Draco turned toward them slowly and crossed his arms. "If you think either of you are sleeping in my bed, you have rocks for brains. Share the sofa if you have to. Hell, sleep on the floor, for all I care. Now, if you'll excuse me…."

Harry reached out and placed a hand on Draco's arm, causing the other man to swing around abruptly and pull his arm away. "Come on, Malfoy, I'm not going to bite." He waggled his eyebrows. "Unless you want me to."

"No."

"Fine." Harry sighed, crossing his arms. "If you want to be bound again, it's up to you."

Draco looked at him coldly, his grey eyes piercing Harry's green ones for several long moments as he calculated the risks of hexing the Ministry's Head Auror. Apparently deciding that the risks were too great, he huffed again and turned to walk wordlessly into the bedroom. Harry winked at Ron as he placed his hand on the door knob. "Okay, honey, I'll be there in a little while," he crooned at Draco's back before shutting the door quickly behind him as several choice swear words echoed through the heavy wood.

"Be careful, mate. He might hex your balls off." Ron snickered into his beer.

"Where do I get one of those? I'm parched." Harry walked to the mini bar and opened the fridge. "Oooo, Heineken, my favourite. Lucky the git is paying." Plucking a bottle from the door of the fridge, he quickly popped the top and sat down next to Ron, spreading his legs out expansively and propping his heels on the coffee table.

"So, you think Malfoy is gay?" Ron looked at him curiously. "He's such a bloody ponce."

Harry brought the bottle away from his lips and stared at his friend. "Thanks, Ron."

"Er, I didn't mean…. Oh, hell… I _know_ all gay men are not campy, and all campy men aren't gay, but really…. He's just too pretty to be straight."

"Yeah, well, he _says_ he isn't gay." Harry shrugged as he sipped his beer. "Who knows?" He settled down into the pillows of the couch as Ron flicked the remote to the late evening news. "Got a bloody gorgeous arse though." He mused. "Pity it's Malfoy. I might've taken my chances."

"Like I said, mate. Balls. Hex. Don't do it. It's not worth it."

"Not likely, mate. Even if he was gay, he's the type'd nag you to death." He rolled his eyes as he finished off his drink. Placing it carelessly on the highly polished table, he stood up and stretched. "Well, I suppose the princess has finished getting ready for bed, so I might as well go too. I'm beat." He yawned widely and stretched before scratching the bare flesh of his stomach where his sweater had ridden up.

"Night, then." Ron toed off his shoes and lifted his feet to the spot where Harry had been sitting.

"Night." Harry mumbled as he opened the door to the bedroom. One lamp was still lit, but the bed's only occupant appeared to be in a deep sleep, his pyjama'd back, which was turned toward Harry, gently rising and falling against the sheet and blanket. Closing the door softly behind him, Harry padded to the bed and pulled back the covers. Leaning on the edge of the bed, he quickly pulled of his trainers before shucking his jeans and sweater, then crawled into bed in his boxers and pulled the covers up.

"Touch me and you are dead meat."

Harry turned his head toward the other man's back and gave a chuckle. "You wish."

He snickered triumphantly when a loud huff emanated from the covers on the other side of the bed. Shaking his head to himself, he quickly flicked off the light and rolled onto his side, promptly falling sleep.

#

"God, he has _got_ to be the biggest Nellie Bottom I've ever seen," Ron whispered as he nudged Harry. Turning toward the bedroom door, which had just opened, Harry suppressed a smirk as he took in the baby blue silk slippers and robe adorning Malfoy's slim but well built form. Ignoring them, Draco walked across the room towards the breakfast trolley, which had been left there only minutes earlier. Lifting the lid of the first dish, he surveyed the contents cautiously for several moments before turning to the others.

"Since you've decided to make yourselves at home, you might as well join me for breakfast. I took the liberty of ordering before I went to bed last night."

Ron looked at Harry in surprise. "Well, that's very nice of you, Malfoy. Don't mind if I do. I'm starving."

Walking over to join Draco, he lifted a lid and blinked rapidly. "What the fuck is this stuff?" Looking over at Harry, he grimaced. "No offense, Malfoy, but it looks like puke."

Draco sighed and took the lid out of his hand. "That is bircher muesli. And it's mine." He indicated another dish. "Try that one."

Ron lifted the lid of the second dish and grunted appreciatively. "Sausages and bacon. Now that is more like it." After helping himself to a large plate of the fried food, he held the lid so that Harry could help himself as well. Plates heaped, they settled down at the small table by the window, where Draco was sipping juice as he read the morning paper.

"You might as well slap that straight on your veins," he observed in disgust.

"Everyone to their own," Ron mumbled with his mouth full, spitting bits of egg across the crisp white tablecloth.

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Ron, watch your manners." Turning to Draco, Harry smiled apologetically. Ron could be very uncouth at times. "It really was nice of you to order breakfast for us, Malfoy."

"Well, can't have you falling down on the job due to lack of sustenance, can we?" Draco grimaced again as he watched Ron shove an impossibly large forkful of bacon into his mouth. "So, are you two Keystone Cops going to follow me around all day?"

Harry chewed thoughtfully as he thought about their strategy for protecting wizard Britain's most prominent businessman. He looked up from his plate just in time to catch Draco staring at him. "What? Have I got sauce on my chin or something?" He rubbed his fingers across his chin several times as Draco looked away, slightly flushed.

"Er, no. Sorry, I was just thinking."

Harry frowned as he regarded the expression on the other man's face. If he didn't know better, he would have thought Malfoy was embarrassed. Brushing off the thought as quickly as it came, Harry sipped from his coffee. "Yes, actually, we will be accompanying you for the rest of your stay. What's up first?"

"I have several business meetings downtown, including a lunch meeting at Spago's, then a gallery opening at six." Draco placed his spoon carefully on his plate and picked up his tea cup to take a sip. "I need to leave at eight forty-five sharp. Please don't keep me waiting, or I'll leave without you."

"No problem. We'll be ready."

"One other thing," Draco continued as he stood up from the table, "Spago's has a dress code. Do you think you might be able to conjure up a couple of decent outfits?" He looked down at Harry's trainers disparagingly. "And shoes."

Harry sat back against his chair, giving Draco a crooked smile. "Sure, Malfoy. Whatever it takes."

#

At eight forty, Draco stepped out of the bedroom, looking elegant as usual in a grey Hugo Boss business suit with a shell pink tie and crisp white shirt. His fine blond hair was swept back behind his ears and he fiddled with it distractedly as he checked his watch. If Potter and Weasley weren't ready, he was damned if he was going to wait around for them. He hated to be late. Walking over to check his tie in the mirror over the hall table, he frowned when he saw Ron's reflection as he lounged on the sofa.

"Weasley, you call that dressed?" Draco turned and regarded Ron's jeans and trainers with exasperation. He would never get into Spago's in that get up.

"Actually, he's been called back to London." Harry stepped out of the bathroom and walked over to where his jacket lay over the arm of an easy chair. "Family emergency. Pansy has gone into early labour. He's just waiting for Floo clearance. So you'll have to put up with just me for today."

Draco's eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Gone were the jeans and tatty trainers, and in their place were well-fitting navy trousers and shiny back Italian loafers. Draco's eyes raked over the cut of the pants in silent appreciation, noting the sharp crease that continued from the crisp hem of the trousers up both legs, the way the soft fabric, which was surely French wool, clung to the muscled curve of Potter's arse, and the expensive dragon hide belt. But it was the shirt that really caught Draco's attention. It was a soft silvery grey, probably silk, though the shimmer of the fabric was subtle enough for Draco to wonder, and the way it clung to Potter's form was nothing short of breathtaking. Potter was built and the shirt was fitted and, as the Auror leaned over to pick up his suit jacket, his muscles rippled beneath the fabric, his nipples standing pertly in relief against it. The ensemble was complemented by an Italian silk navy tie with a subtle grey pattern. The total effect was gorgeous and, as Draco observed Potter's movements, he couldn't help wonder what had happened to the gawky schoolboy who used to dress in baggy clothes three sizes too big for him.

He was musing thus, his eyes still raking over the firm chest and down to the bulging thighs, when Potter looked up and raised his eyebrows in question. "Well? Do I meet your approval, Your Highness?"

"You'll do." Draco looked away abruptly, moving to the hall table to pick up his keys and wallet. "Time to go. Will Weasley be back this evening?"

"Not sure," Ron replied as he got up from the couch and moved to the fireplace. "As soon as I get Floo clearance I'll be off. Not sure when I'll be back."

"Well, please have the decency to call first if you intend to return later today."

"Why? Got a little floozy lined up, have you?" Ron winked at Harry.

"I don't like to be caught by surprise." Draco replied with as much disdain as he could muster. Honestly, the Weasel was about as subtle as a bull in a china shop. Turning back to Harry, he nodded. "Let's go, Potter."

Donning his jacket, Harry muttered a quick goodbye to his partner and followed Draco out of the apartment to the lift.

#

It was a busy day, but Harry managed to follow his charge around with suitable aplomb, and by the time they arrived at the gallery opening, Draco was feeling considerably less trepidation at the thought of being accompanied by the Auror. There were many hands to shake and contacts to shmooze and Harry was in equal parts both charming and attentive. Draco introduced him as a "colleague from London," given that most of the attendees at the gallery were Muggles, and Harry took the role on board with practiced ease, shaking hands and making appropriate comments where required.

"I didn't know you were an art aficionado," Draco commented at one point as he gratefully took two glasses of champagne from the waiter, handing one to Harry.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

Draco regarded him coolly from beneath lowered lids as he sipped from his glass. "Apparently. I like your suit, by the way. Brooks Brothers?"

Harry smirked. "Have you been checking out my arse, Malfoy?"

Draco coloured prettily and nearly choked on his drink. Quickly recovering, he turned to regard one of the paintings on display. "I know a good suit when I see one. I hardly see where your arse comes into it."

"My arse is getting pretty tired of socializing with all these phonies, that's for sure. How much longer do we have to stay here?"

"I'm just waiting for my contact from lunch to meet us so I can sign some papers. Then we are free to go." Draco looked at him thoughtfully. "Thanks for not being a complete toad today."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Anything to please you, Princess," he replied sarcastically. Draco was about to retort when a well-dressed man of continental appearance walked up to him and whispered in his ear.

"Excuse me, Potter. I'll be back shortly." Draco disappeared out the back with the man and Harry turned back to regard the paintings on display, idly tapping his now empty glass as he moved from one to the other.

Draco was good as his word, however, returning minutes later with a look of severe disapproval on his face. "Come on, Potter. Let's get out of here." Grabbing Harry by the wrist, he bustled him towards the door and down the stairs to the street. They walked in silence for some time before Harry got up the nerve to speak.

"What happened? You look… upset."

Draco put his hands in his pockets and stared straight ahead as they continued at a brisk pace. "Let's just say my business plans didn't quite work out as anticipated," he replied hesitantly.

"Oh. Too bad."

"Indeed."

They continued on for several minutes before Harry realized where they were. "Hey, fancy a real drink?" He stopped and indicated a nearby club. "You look like you could use one," he added by way of explanation.

Draco slowed his pace slightly before stopping altogether and looking back at Harry. "Why not," he replied, to Harry's complete surprise.

Harry ushered him into the club and made for the bar. "I'll have a scotch rocks," he said to the barman before turning to Draco in question.

"Sounds good. I'll have a double."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that but refrained from commenting, merely handing Draco his drink and paying the man behind the bar before following Draco to a nearby table. Once they had settled, Draco looked around curiously. "A gay bar, Potter?" He drank deeply from his glass and sat back, apparently unruffled by the fact.

Harry shrugged. "This is San Francisco, Malfoy. Is there any other kind?"

"I feel rather overdressed." Draco nodded towards the next table where two men in tanks and tight leather pants were snogging.

"You look rather hot to me." Harry smirked as Draco flushed slightly, gulping from his glass to cover his discomfort. Draining his drink quickly, Draco dropped his glass onto the table before making to rise. "I need another. You?"

"No thanks, I'm good." Harry swirled the whiskey around in his glass and sat back to take in the scene around him. It was still early enough that there were empty tables, but those that were occupied provided a colourful spectacle for observation. Harry loosened his tie and shrugged off his jacket, laying it over the back of his chair. Draco returned moments later with two more drinks.

"Thought I'd save myself the trouble of going back," he said in answer to Harry's questioning glance, placing both glasses on the table as he pulled out his chair and sat back down.

"Hey, take it easy," Harry frowned at Draco as the latter quickly downed his second double scotch. "I don't want to have to carry you back to the hotel."

Draco huffed at him condescendingly. "Please. I could drink you under the table any day."

"Is that so?" Harry reached over and grabbed the other glass, downing the contents in one gulp. "We'll see about that, shall we?" Picking up both glasses, Harry headed back to the bar to order more. Several minutes later he was back with a bottle and two new glasses. "Let's get serious." He smirked as he set the glasses on the table and filled them.

"Cheers," Draco replied amiably as he lifted the glass to his lips.

An hour later, Draco was pleasantly smashed, giggling inanely at something or other Harry had said. The latter, though nicely buzzed, was all but sober, having surreptitiously filled Draco's glass about twice as often as his own. He was still officially on duty, and he didn't want to compromise his protection of Draco by getting drunk.

The music was getting louder by that stage and the club was becoming crowded. Harry had taken off is tie altogether as the heat had closed in on him. As he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, Draco eyed him appreciatively, noting the sinewy forearms and the surprisingly well-manicured hands as they worked on the fabric.

He was taken by surprise, however, when a good-looking man in a sleeveless shirt and tight jeans walked up to Harry and asked him to dance. Harry smiled up at the man and nodded before following him onto the dance floor. Draco downed another scotch as he watched them move around the floor, his eyes narrowing when the man grabbed Harry by the hips and gyrated against him. Harry responded by running his hands up the man's muscley arms, eventually resting them on his broad shoulders as they continued to writhe and shake to the music.

Draco felt himself flush as he watched, the grip on his glass tightening so that his fingertips turned white. They were dancing way too close, in his opinion, and what was Potter doing with his hands? Draco craned his neck as they disappeared to the other side of the dance floor; he could barely see them as they moved in and out of his range of vision. At one stage, he thought he'd lost them, but then they appeared again under one of the blue spotlights, this time entangled in each other's arms in a heated embrace. Draco saw red and abruptly stood up from the table, his chair falling backwards with the force, before marching onto the dance floor and pushing through the tangle of bodies until he reached Potter and his partner.

He grabbed Harry by the arm and the latter turned to him in surprise.

"Time to go, Potter," he slurred slightly, the effects of the scotch making themselves obvious.

"In awhile, Malfoy. I'm having fun." Harry shook off Draco's hand and turned back to his dance partner.

But Draco was having none of that. Pushing in between the two, he deliberately elbowed the other man before turning to Harry. "You're my Auror, Potter. How can you protect me if you're with this poof?" he pouted. The other man just shrugged and walked away, shaking his head.

Harry regarded Draco with some amusement, noting the uncharacteristically messy hair, which had fallen from behind his ear and was now hanging fetchingly over his slightly glazed eyes. Reaching a hand up, he smoothed the hair back behind Draco's ear before running his hand gently down the crisp white sleeve and snaking it around his waist. "Of course I'm your Auror." Leaning in closer he breathed into Draco's ear. "Didn't I promise I would protect you?"

Draco's breath hitched slightly and his head fell forward, his forehead resting against Harry's cheek. Pulling him closer, Harry wrapped strong arms around him, shivering slightly as the other man relaxed against him. He rubbed small circles against Draco's back, rocking him slowly to the beat of the music, and Draco sighed in appreciation as Harry nuzzled his ear.

"There, is that better?" Harry whispered softly.

"Mmmmm…." Draco's reply was muffled, but his approval was clear. He moved his arms up to drape around Harry's neck and sighed when the latter pulled him impossibly closer.

After several long minutes, Harry pulled away slightly and brushed the hair out of Draco's eyes again. "Let's take you home, shall we?" Draco nodded his assent, allowing Harry to lead him by the hand back to their table, where he picked up both their jackets before heading for the exit.

When they hit the cool night air, Draco swayed slightly and put his hand to his eyes.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked worriedly.

"'m fine. Just need to lie down."

Keeping hold of his hand, Harry hailed a cab and waited while Draco climbed into the back seat before sliding in beside him. He gave the driver the address of their hotel and sat back against the seat. Draco immediately laid his head on Harry's shoulder and sighed contentedly.

Short minutes later, Harry was unlocking the door to their suite and leading the now very tipsy Draco into the bedroom. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"'kay. 'm not sleepy, though. Want to come to bed with me?" Draco looked up at him warmly as Harry laid him on the bed and moved to take off his shoes.

"Sure. I'll be with you in just a few minutes."

"'kay." Draco smiled blearily as Harry unbuttoned his shirt and lifted him to remove it, then unzipped his pants. Draco giggled as he lifted his hips so Harry could slide the trousers down and off, leaving him clad only in black silk boxers. "You've still got yours on. C'mon. Take yours off too." He reached for Harry's belt and began to unbuckle it. Harry caught his hand and gently moved it back to lie on the bed.

"In a minute." Harry moved to the other side of the bed and pulled back the covers. "Come on and scoot over here so I can tuck you in." Draco willingly obliged, rolling over and lifting his knees to slide his feet under the covers, allowing Harry to pull them up and gently tuck them around him. Leaning forward, he placed a chaste kiss on Draco's forehead, but was taken by surprise when the latter reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down roughly until their lips touched. Harry inhaled sharply as Draco opened his lips against his own and slid his tongue out to gently tease the soft flesh inside his mouth. Harry's eyes closed of their own accord as he fell into the embrace, savouring the soft, wet feel of lips and tongue sliding languidly, seductively, pulling him into their heated depths. It took him some moments to come to himself, but eventually he pulled back with a sigh.

"Shhh…" Draco put his finger to his lips and grinned mischievously. "Don't tell anyone, but you're really hot."

Harry chuckled as he finished tucking the other man in.

"Promise you'll come back soon?" Draco stroked his cheek, and Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. "Good. Don't be long." Draco closed his eyes and his hand dropped to the bed. Harry stood and looked at him for some time, affectionately noting the pale lashes resting against the equally pale cheeks and the gentle rise and fall of his chest as his breathing slowed to a steady rhythm. After several minutes, satisfied that his charge was asleep, he made his way to the bathroom. Completing his ablutions quickly, he removed his shirt and trousers and laid them carefully over the back of a chair before sliding into bed.

Draco stirred as the bed dipped, rolling over and wrapping his arms around Harry as the latter pulled up the blankets around himself. Harry lifted his arm and Draco immediately snuggled in against his chest. "Mmm… you're warm," he mumbled. "Like a warm teddy."

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and kissed the top of his head. "Night, Princess."

"Night, Harry," was the muffled reply. Harry grinned at the use of his given name and wondered ruefully if he would be Potter again in the morning.

#

Draco awoke to the sound of running water. Carefully opening one eye, he surveyed the room quickly. The door to the bathroom was shut; Harry was obviously showering. Draco groaned as he moved his head and what felt like hundreds of shards of glass pierced his skull. Snatches of the previous night played over his consciousness and he groaned again as he recalled the club, the bottle of scotch, Harry dancing close with another man. His eyes shot open as his memory of the events of the evening returned with a jolt. Fuck.

Lifting the covers, he looked down and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw he was still wearing boxers. Thank God. So it was just a kiss. Nothing to get upset about. He had been drunk and reckless and Potter had been there, taking care of him. It was natural that he would be affectionate. He was affectionate by nature.

Bullshit. He sighed resignedly; _affectionate_ was not a word anyone would use to describe Draco. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He only hoped Potter had the decency not to rub it in his face. Propping himself up on his elbows, he reached for the clock to see what time it was. His first meeting wasn't until eleven, thank God. He still had plenty of time.

He was leaning over to replace the clock on the night stand when the bathroom door opened and Potter appeared in the doorway, clad only in a towel. Draco's breath caught in his throat. With the light behind him, Potter looked like an Adonis, the muscles of his chest rippling damply as he toweled his hair dry. Fuck. If that wasn't the hottest thing he'd _ever _seen…. Draco groaned and flopped weakly back against the pillows.

"Morning," Harry said pleasantly as he walked over to where his clothes were laid out waiting for him. "There's a hangover potion next to the clock."

Draco gratefully downed the potion and lay back again, closing his eyes. "Thank you," he replied weakly.

"I ordered some breakfast as well."

Draco looked up just as Harry dropped the towel, leaning over to pull on his boxers. Holy fuck, but if that wasn't the sexiest arse in the entire universe! Draco's mouth watered as his gaze locked on the sinuous thighs, moving up to the firm cheeks, which soon disappeared under the white cotton of his shorts. "Meep."

Harry turned quickly. "Sorry, did you say something?" He stopped abruptly, his hands still on the elastic waist of his shorts, and cocked his head at Draco's expression. "What's the matter?"

"Eep."

Draco opened his mouth again in an attempt to say something coherent, but the words got lost somewhere between his mind and his mouth as he regarded the considerable bulge in Harry's boxers. Harry looked down to where he was staring, then up again. After a moment, a smirk slowly slid across his face. Letting go of the elastic with a snap, he walked slowly over to the bed, his gaze holding Draco's, until he was standing next to him, his crotch at Draco's eye level.

"Can I get you something… Draco?"

Draco's eyes dropped and he couldn't help but stare again at the bulge of Harry's cock through his boxers. It was close enough to touch, and Draco unconsciously flicked his tongue out to wet dry lips as he felt his own body respond to the visual stimulus.

"Er…" he coughed and cleared his throat, but the words still stuck there.

Harry reached a hand forward and brushed back the soft blond hair out of Draco's eyes, then ran his thumb down the pale cheek and across the full, slightly parted lips, which opened at his touch. Draco gently nibbled at the skin, then pulled back and looked up shyly at Harry. God. Harry's smile was warm and inviting, almost tender, and his eyes were dark with lust. Draco raked his eyes over that face, down the neck and chest, and when he reached the boxers once again, Harry's cock was standing in vivid relief, straining against the fabric. Draco couldn't help himself; he reached out and touched it, lightly running his fingers over the head until it twitched in response. Leaning back against the pillows, Draco reached for Harry's hand and pulled him down until their faces were millimeters apart. He gazed into those green eyes for long moments before moving his eyes to take in the full, red lips. His eyelids dropped as he leaned forward ever-so-slightly to feel those lips against his own.

They were everything he remembered and more and, as Harry lifted the covers and moved to lie down next to him, their lips still locked together, he felt himself falling into the warm, seductive depths until he was like liquid, his body moving against Harry's of its own accord. When their cocks touched, a lightning bolt of lust and desire swept through him and around him, igniting in his groin and swamping him with a burning heat that reached down to his toes and up through his torso, swirling around inside him until he thought he would die if he didn't get more. More skin, more cock, more Harry….

Suddenly, the languid kiss became more heated and they writhed against each other as their mouths fought a battle neither wanted to win. Scrambling out of their boxers they moved as one, limbs tangled and cocks pressing into hips, moaning and thrusting until Draco cried out as his orgasm ripped through him and hot come spurted over them both. Harry groaned in sympathy and thrust against him several more times before calling Draco's name as his own orgasm peaked, drenching them both and mixing with Draco's juices over their stomachs and chests. Panting, they continued to kiss, neither wanting to let the moment go, and Draco clasped Harry even more tightly as the other man showered him with kisses, eventually lying back against the pillows, exhausted.

Draco's skin felt sticky with come, but he didn't care. He draped his arm over Harry's chest and nuzzled his neck.

Just then there was a loud flaring sound in the living room as the fireplace roared to life, announcing the imminent arrival of Ron.

"Harry? Malfoy?" Ron called, walking into the bedroom as he brushed ash from his sleeve.

He stopped abruptly at the scene before him and stared in shock. "Bloody hell, Harry, you don't waste time, do you?"

Harry turned to look at him briefly, before turning back and kissing Draco's hair. "Actually, I think I have already wasted too much time," he replied, smiling at Draco when he lifted his head for another kiss. "Way too much…."

Fin


End file.
